


Disposable

by asocialconstruct



Category: Starfighter (Comic)
Genre: Alcohol, Blood and Injury, Cuddling & Snuggling, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-23
Updated: 2013-05-23
Packaged: 2017-12-12 18:21:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/814588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asocialconstruct/pseuds/asocialconstruct
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cain and Encke are crash landed on a desert planet and have some bro time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Disposable

**Author's Note:**

  * For [seb_the_owl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seb_the_owl/gifts), [JustEight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustEight/gifts).



Climb in the experimental bomber, _yes sir_.  Let Abel and Keeler fly it from the nice safety of the carrier while you get thrown around in a rattlecan, _yes sir, of course sir_.  

Fly with the lieutenant, _what a compliment sir_.  

Crash land on a fucking desolate rock to fucking starve to death, _sir yes sir_.

“Reliant,” Encke snarled over his shoulder a few paces ahead, “if you don’t stop muttering under your goddamn breath, I’m gonna come over there and punch you in the throat, so quit your bitching.”

“Yes sir,” Cain snapped out.  “Asshole.”

Encke laughed, shouldering his half of the ejection rack.  “Maybe, but I ain’t gonna be a dead asshole.  So quit your bitching and save your strength, we got another ten klicks before we get back to the ship.”

* * *

Ten kilometers with his shoulder aching; ten kilometers glaring a hole in Encke’s back and planning out all the ways he was going to fuck Abel if he lived through this stupid fucking nightmare, to make up for the whole shitty mess.  Ten kilometers trying not to think about all the high-tech bullshit he’d gotten burned into his shoulder when he fucked the landing and almost got them killed.

Ten kilometers to find the burned out hull of the experimental bomber smoldering quietly on a rocky outcropping, slowly burning through their emergency supplies until Encke took a fire extinguisher to it while Cain passed out useless from the pain.

* * *

_“It’s an honor, Cain, it’s an important mission.”  Abel sat up in bed and frowned, ignoring Cain trying to tug him back down to spoon after they’d fucked.  Half-heartedly and both of them distracted since news came down of his reassignment to the test flight, but they’d fucked, and now it was time for the goddamn cuddling, except that Abel wasn’t cooperating.  Just rubbed at his shoulder where Cain had bitten him and frowned down at the sheets in his lap.  “You should be proud.”_

_That was the last fucking straw, all of Abel’s bullshit, and Bering’s bullshit, and Encke’s bullshit all coming down at once, and Cain shoved himself up to get his smokes, done trying to fucking snuggle Abel if he was going to be such a goddamn prick about it.  “Fuck you, Abel, if it was so fucking important, then why didn’t you volunteer for it?”_

_“I did.”_

_Cain stopped.  Stared.  “You little shit, you volunteered me for another goddamn suicide mission—“_

_Abel hunched his shoulders, pursed his lips.  Wouldn’t look Cain in the eye as he said it.  “I volunteered after they’d picked you.  I volunteered when Cook told me you’d been picked, but he said they were only sending fighters.  I lo—“_

* * *

Cain shook off the lieutenant’s bullshit concern a couple minutes later, a couple hours later, who the fuck cared because Encke had given him an injection from the half-smashed med kit and he could still feel the burn in his shoulder and the absence where Abel should have been.

So Cain shoved Encke’s hands away as he sat up, probing at the gash in his shoulder tentatively as Encke backed off to put the med kit away, in what was left of the ruined ship.  

Hissed, wincing as he peeled his flight suit away.  Cursed and punched the wall as part of the flight suit came away in the bloody gash, Encke watching him.  

“You want a hand with that?” Encke asked after the third strip of bloody flight suit came away in his hands.

“No,” Cain snapped, but Encke was already moving, pushing himself up to come crouch behind Cain, hand on his unhurt shoulder.

“Too fucking bad, so shut up.  You fucked up your shoulder pretty fucking good.”

“Yeah, thanks to your fucking great landing.  Sir,” Cain added, and regretted it when Encke pulled the half melted strip of flight suit out of the gash.  “ _Fuck_.”

“Better out than in, Reliant,”  Encke said, and fucking laughed.  “You’ll be fine,” he added, maybe a little apologetically, when another strip of flight suit came away with more flesh than suit attached.  “Thought the damn things were supposed to be fire proof, anyway,” Encke muttered.

Cain just growled at that, trying not to pass out with the pain again as Encke fished the last shred of burnt flight suit out of the gash and plastered an anti-microbial emergency regenerative over it.  Burned like hell for the first few seconds until the numbing agent soaked in; then Encke gave him another dose of painkillers and left to scout the area as Cain dozed that off until evening.

* * *

They shivered closer as the temperature dropped; breathable air and a barren rocky wasteland meant burning hot during the day and fucking freezing at night.  With only their flight suits, one emergency blanket and the bare handful of sticks gathered from the rocky slope leading down from the crash, they probably wouldn’t freeze to death over night.  Probably wouldn’t get cancer from burning the fuck-knew-what kind of alien vegetation, but they’d find out when Fleet picked them up and ran tests on their dead bodies.  If Fleet picked them up.

So they lay down under the wrinkly, obnoxious rattle of the metallic emergency blanket, trying not to touch and make it even more awkward.  Cain lay there on his side with chattering teeth trying not to think about Abel, about how much fucking warmer he’d been just that morning, wrapped around Abel and fucking him slow and deep, one last time that wasn’t supposed to be the very last time, before getting shipped off to die on some desolate rock.

Encke shifted behind him, making the tinfoil blanket shake and twist.  Flimsy shit, they packed them to keep the weight restrictions down, but they didn’t do any fucking good when you needed them.  “You still awake, Reliant?” Encke asked after a minute.

“Nope.  Sound asleep like a fucking baby, sir.”

“Shut up and get over here.”  Encke wrapped a big arm around him, pulling Cain to his chest and snuggling up, pulling Cain’s ass back into him.  “Just fucking relax, Reliant, your ass ain’t that cute.  You rather freeze to death than wonder if you might like getting fucked?”

“No sir.”

“Then calm down and go the fuck to sleep.”

Cain growled a curse under his breath and tucked closer into Encke, pressing his ass back, because it was fucking cold, and no other fucking reason, Encke’s arm heavy and solid over him.  

* * *

_Abel cuddled against him, cheek on his chest and tracing circles across his collarbone and side.  “Don’t do anything stupid, you have to come back,” he said quietly._

_Cain sighed, shifting uncomfortably.  “I’m just the fucking monkey who pushes the button, that’s all, Abel.”_

_“Not to me, you aren’t.”_

_Cain took a breath to say something to that but couldn’t, his chest going tight when he glanced down at Abel’s head on his chest, Abel’s hands on him, and as much as he knew they’d both better off if he just shoved Abel off right then, he pulled Abel closer and pressed his nose to the little blond’s hair._

Encke woke him up with an elbow to the gut, shoving him away as they both sat up.  “Reliant, fuck, get off—“

“So snuggling’s only ok when it’s officer’s orders, sir?” Cain asked, rubbing his neck where he’d slept crooked.

Encke glared at him, looking half ready to swing a punch.  “You sass me again and I’m gonna cuddle the shit out of you, Reliant, and you’ll _like_ it.”

Cain grunted and let the lieutenant help him up, shoulder still aching and Encke treating him like a broken fucking kitten as they sat together in the cold wreck to eat their E-rations and plan out the day.  Scouting, trying to contact the Sleipnir, and more scouting.

His shoulder felt better, better enough at least to join the lieutenant on another scout of the area, like there wasn’t anything they couldn’t see from the outcropping the bomber had crashed on, all rocks and waste and burning blowing sand just like home.  But at least it was something to do besides sit and think about how much better his life had been when the most he’d had to worry about how slow to fuck Abel every night.

* * *

They brought back more little sticks of cancer-causing, brain-rotting alien trees after that afternoon’s scout managed a half decent fire, the warmth of it trapped against the one side of the hull left mostly undamaged, sheltered from the dusty wind.  The lieutenant fixed a warm sludge of their E-rations, cooked on thin slice of the hull and watered to a pastey gruel with their bare ration of water.

He got out the bottle later, the one that Deimos had snuck past the weight restrictions and maintenance’s final check, the bottle that was supposed to be good luck, in case that last time with Abel really had been the last time.  Might as well drink it with the lieutenant, as long as there was nothing better to do besides sit there with his shoulder aching, waiting to see if anyone cared enough to send a ship out after them.  Cain took a couple swigs of it, the burn in his throat easing the burn in his back.

Encke watching him, the corner of his mouth quirking, barely.  “Ay dios mío, Reliant, you planning on drinking yourself to death if we crash landed?”

Cain took another drink of it, smirking across the fire at him.  The liquor made it seem not such a bad idea, not so fucking cold, even if Abel was all the way back at the carrier and fucking Keeler right that second.  “Maybe.  Depending on how bad a lay you were.”

“Little shit.  Hand the bottle here.”  They reached out to exchange it, but Encke caught his good arm and pulled Cain into him, putting an arm over his shoulders.  Warmer that way anyway, leaning against Encke instead of the cold hull of the ship, and easier on his shoulder anyway, mostly knit together after a couple more regenerative plasters but still itching deep inside where it was working to heal.  Would have been better back on the Sleipnir, with medical to stitch it back up in a day and Abel there to suck his cock as the painkillers wore off, but a bottle of cheap liquor and someone warm was better than nothing.

Cain leaned back against him, hanging onto the bottle and taking one more drink before handing it over.

They drank in silence for a bit, and that would have been so much fucking better, if Encke hadn’t opened his big damn mouth, because he said exactly what Cain was thinking.  “What you think they’re doing?  Abel and Keeler?”

“Don’t wanna think about it,” Cain mumbled.  “Prob’ly getting fucked by everybody and their navigator.”

“You think so?” Encke asked thoughtfully, taking another drink.

“I just mean—fuck, I mean—Keeler,” Cain slurred.  “I mean fuck Keeler.  I mean Keeler’d be a good fuck.  But.” Cain squinted down at the mostly empty bottle, trying to focus.  “But fuck Keeler.  He’s pretty fucking cute, but he’s all over fucking Abel.  Abel’s a good fuck too.  But fucking Keeler, he’s always trying to fuck him.  Can’t you do a fucking thing about it?”

Encke almost snorted his liquor, coughing and jostling Cain.  “I don’t fucking—“ Encke coughed, clearing his throat.  “I don’t fucking tell Keeler what to do, Reliant, he does whatever the fuck he wants,” he said when he managed to stop his coughing.  He pulled Cain back to lean against him, ignoring Cain’s half-drunk noise of protest, even if Cain didn’t really put up that much of a struggle, too tired to care.  “Besides, don’t tell me you never thought about it,” Encke said.

“Course I fucking thought about it, who hasn’t thought about fucking Keeler?”

“Meant Keeler fucking Abel,” Encke said, low and mean with his and squeezing Cain’s shoulder.

“Didn’t mean—“ Cain started, but Encke cut him off with a laugh, drunker than shit.  “Abel fucking Keeler would be hotter anyway, Abel’s a good fuck,” Cain mumbled sullenly, grabbing the bottle back.

“That so, Reliant?  And how the fuck would you know?” Encke murmured, leaning in to mouth the veins of Cain’s neck.

“How the fuck do you think?” Cain snapped.  Tried to shrug off Encke’s arm, but not with much conviction, warm and the edges of everything blurred with the liquor and Encke’s mouth working magic below his ear.

Encke laughed again, taking the bottle away to put it out of reach.  “That’s pretty fucking cute,” Encke said, pushing Cain over to lie back, mouth on Cain’s belly as Encke started to push his shirt up.

“Fuck you,” Cain snarled.  “Like you and Keeler never—like you never—“ he trailed off, since they’d never covered in basic how to ask a superior officer if he’d gotten it up the ass from another superior officer, especially when that officer was slowly palming your hard cock.

Encke smirked up at him.  “Switched?  Maybe, but Abel just doesn’t seem the type.  Little too cute for that.  Keeler says he blushes too much, still thinks he’s being all sneaky about all the cute little love bites you give him.”

“Fuck—“ Cain hissed, torn between being pissed with Keeler and how fucking hard he was, with Encke’s hand on his cock and mouth on his hip.  “Fuck, what else did Keeler say about him?” he asked, dick getting the better of his brain.

“Says he’s got a cute ass,” Encke smirked, kissing Cain’s hipbone as he started to undo his fly.  “And that Keeler thinks he could have him bent over the desk any time,” Encke said, and anything Cain was going to snarl about that was lost in Encke’s warm mouth swallowing him hard, thinking about how fucking hot it would be to catch Abel getting fucked by Keeler, bent over the desks at the lab, with Abel’s scarred mouth open and begging, just a little, with that blush he got when he was embarrassed how bad he wanted it.

Encke hummed around his cock, sure fingers raking down Cain’s side and thigh, pulling him closer and keeping him pinned in place at the same time, almost as good as the time Abel had tied Cain’s hands over his head with a shirt and ridden him stupid, pinned in place and half dazed with how bad he wanted it, how bad he wanted Abel bouncing on his cock, still blushing like a virgin even as he pretended to be naughty with glancing at Cain through his lashes.

“C’mere, baby,” Encke murmured, sitting up and pulling Cain to him, settling Cain on his lap like he didn’t weigh anything and being too careful of his shoulder still.  Encke traced the line of Cain’s jaw as they kissed, too delicate, and Cain snarled against him to show him how it was done.  He yanked Encke’s cock free of his uniform, not bothering to be gentle about it, jerking him tight with Encke’s fingers digging into his good shoulder.  Encke wasn’t as desperate and needy as Abel, he bit back harder and he squeezed Cain’s ass without any coyness, and Cain wondered if this was what he was like when he fucked Keeler.

Or if this was what Keeler was like when he fucked Abel.

Cain hissed as Encke pulled his hair to lean down and suck a dark bruise on his neck, mouth warm and sure, wrapping a broad hand around Cain’s cock again and making him cling to Encke’s shoulders or lose his balance.  Encke held him tight with one arm and stroked their cocks together fast, too fast, and Cain came with Encke sucking his ear and kissing too delicate as Encke finished too, shuddering with his forehead on Cain’s shoulder like Abel would have.

* * *

Somehow they’d managed to crawl back into the relative warmth of the ship, laying there drunk and stupid and tangled up until Cain’s dry mouth and screaming bladder got the better of him.  Too fucking bright even in the shade of the wreck; he rolled over and threw an arm across his face, head pounding.  Bladder and stomach didn’t like that, so he swayed out to the edge of the crash site to take a piss, rubbing his pounding, gummy eyes, and didn’t realize until too late that the movement on the edge of his vision wasn’t just everything still spinning from the night before.

Heart beating too fast and stomach heaving from more than just he hangover, Cain scrambled back into the ship, clattering through the undamaged equipment they’d piled in the corner.  “We’re in big fucking trouble,” he snarled as Encke shifted at the noise.

“Fuck, yes, I noticed, Reliant, and it was your fucking liquor anyway.  Lucky we’re not both blind.”  Encke rubbed his eyes, not quite sitting up.  “Although blind would be better than this fucking headache.”

Cain hissed back at him, gesturing out the gaping hole in the side of the ship, over the valley where the enemy ship had just appeared.  “No, I mean we’ve got—“

Encke just groaned, hungover and useless.  “Reliant, would you just shut the fuck up and leave me alone to die in peace already?”

Cain threw a helmet at him.  “We’ve got _fucking Terons_ doing a scout, _sir_ , if you’d quit your bitching for two seconds.”

Encke scrambled next to him to peer out the side of the ship, cursing under his breath and wincing as he went for his gun.  “Fuck.  Fuck fuck _fuck_.  We’re so fucking screwed,” Encke hissed, squinting with one eye at the circling ship.

“The fuck’s the problem?  We’ll just get the fuck out of here and—“

“They’re here for the fucking ship, Reliant, it doesn’t fucking matter if we get out of here—“

“It fucking matters to _me_ —“

“Fleet won’t come pick us up if the ship’s gone, you fucking idiot, they don’t give a damn if we get out of this or not.”

Cain just stared at him.  Of course Fleet would come pick them up, how the fuck else were Keeler and Abel supposed to fly without them.  Fleet didn’t just leave soldiers on the ground to get picked up by enemy scouts, they sure as fuck didn’t leave officers out to get interrogated.

Of course Fleet would come for them.  “The fuck do you mean—“

“We’re disposable.  The ship isn’t,” Encke snarled, not looking at him, still peering after the scout ship.  “Fleet can get another two fighters, they can’t get another one of these.  That clear enough for you, Reliant?”

They stared out at the scout finally circling away, either having missed them or on its way to pick up a ground assault team and backup, to clear them out and pick up the ship.  “So what do we do?” Cain asked, not at all sure he wanted to know the answer.

“Try to get this piece of shit back in the air and pray,” Encke said grimly, pushing his gun away.


End file.
